SORRY IM JUST A BASIC HYSTERIC!!!!!!!! a love & farewell letter to the clyde hotel on cardigan.

By | 15 May 2023

hysteria might be an intolerance for the messiness of gender
a wilderness of being, no civitas beneath stockings
unclothed, i am most invisible to myself unclothed
was that the kettle?
fish be to god, glory, highhighhhhhHHHHHHHHHHsssshhhhH

there is no such thing as a sexual relationship (wink emoji)
sometimes the sexiest thing is not to.
what could be sweeter than knowing
what you could have gotten–
or gotten away with

getting what you want
changes your idea of what you can get
don’t even @ me about what you’re entitled to

jesus was a tradie who was gay for books1
and spoke up at reading groups, at 12.
when people swear “jesus christ on a bicycle”
they’re taking his relationship
with mary magdalene in vain

the social-justice framework you bring
to the redistribution of sandwiches
does not hold up for fucking2
angels are not owed embraces
the devil is fucking her raw
while you spell-check your love letters,
daydreaming of more-than-half-meant blowjobs

i want to meet the people who use dental dams,
and feed them gummy bears on blueberry yoghurt

i’ve heard it hurts when you’re born into a combination
of skin and bone that makes people think
your love is less than

sorry, im just a basic hysteric,
(constantly competing with sublime hysterics, the only thing i share with hegel
is a star sign)
assigned a bastard at birth

a pimple on the otherwise smooth backside of identity
children happen. (existence, suddenly/i didn’t ask for it)

the sound of transience3 is
the train you just missed,
from frankston to flinders street
sunday midnight.
holding hands at the gallery
might be nice

i don’t know how to hold
what’s worth preserving
love is a story you tell
when saying “that’s not enough” feels selfish

there’s enough of me to be 100%
to all my commitments & to poetry
i am thermopylae and tirad pass4
in the alternate timeline where the underdogs win

im just a basic hysteric, not those sublime ones
we discuss at the Clyde5 while Darlene6 purrs on the carpet,
das ding behind those refrigerator doors we’ve never opened,
the mystery
keeps us returning

the things i can’t say to your face
i write in Cordite.

  1. I had a first-year student who had been a tradie,
    who told me that when he would take out a book during breaks, he would be told, “books are gay.”
    He turned his back on potentially earning $100,000 at the mines to become a teacher.
  2. Amia Srinivasan says this in her book The Right to Sex. A version of the chapter featuring the line
    about sandwiches is in the London Review of Books
  3. On Transience is a brief essay by Sigmund Freud, in which he reflects
    on the possibility of renewed libidinal investment after loss.
  4. During the Filipino Revolution against American colonial forces in 1899, 60 Filipino soldiers
    led by 24-year-old revolutionary General Gregorio Del Pilar fought against 500 Americans,
    preventing them from reaching then fleeing Philippine President Emilio Aguinaldo.
    Del Pilar and his troops were killed in combat. The Battle of Tirad Pass is sometimes
    regarded as the Philippines’ Battle of Thermopylae. At the December 1898 Treaty of Paris,
    the Spanish empire sold the Philippines and its other territories to the United States
    for 20 million dollars. The United States refused to recognise the Philippine Declaration of
    Independence, which took place earlier in the year, on 12th June 1898.
  5. The Clyde Hotel on 385 Cardigan Street is a known watering hole for Melbourne’s literary
    and continental philosophy avant-garde scene.
  6. Darlene is the Clyde’s calico cat. She’s very reserved. Be gentle with her. Watch the
    floor because she blends into the carpet.
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